Every Me Loves Every You
by MPPSexxySiriusJamesRemus
Summary: Compilation of James/Lily fanfiction set in alternate universes. One way or another, they will find their way to each other.
1. Wrong Number

Wrong Number

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and everything related belongs first, and foremost, to JK Rowling, and then to her partnerships with Bloomsbury, Scholastics, Warner Bros., etc.

**Author's Note:** I have posted a lot of stories on my tumblr and here is where I will compile the AU one-shots I write. Reviews are always welcome!

**Summary:** 'I need bailing out and I called the wrong number' AU prompt from tumblr.

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><p>"I should be asleep right now," Lily repeated for the sixteenth time to Marlene, who had long since ignored these particular words when strung together by her friend. They lied sprawled out along the large sofa in their flat, Marlene mindlessly clicking through the late-night infomercials. Feet away in the kitchen, their other flat-mate Mary was slamming cabinets open in search of her favorite late-night snack.<p>

"_It is half past one in the morning_," Lily informed them. "I should be sleeping. We all should be sleeping! I—"

Her mobile, which rested precariously upon her overlarge tee shirt, started buzzing, illuminating her features in the darkened room, and successfully silencing her complaints.

"Who the hell is calling at this hour?"

"I don't recognize the number—"

"Don't answer, Lil—"

But, "Hello?"

"PADFOOT! PADFOOT YOU BASTARD!" an irate voice came through the line, causing Lily to pull the phone inches from her ear. Marlene clicked on the lamp nearest her as she sat up straighter.

"Err—hello? What's Padfoot—"

"THEY'VE LOCKED ME UP, YOU PRAT. THIS IS _NOT FUNNY_."

Lily's eyes widen as she covered the mouth-piece with her hand. "This bloke's in the nick!" Marlene stifled her laughter as she shoved Mary onto the sofa to join in listening.

"Oi!" Lily said loudly, through the chattering of the angry voice. "Whoever you are, this isn't Padfoot! You've called the wrong number—"

"What? For fuck's sake!" Lily could hear the voice soften as the man turned away from his mouth-piece. "I've dialed the wrong number. Can I get another call?" A muffled voice seemed to respond unfavorably, prompting, "Shit! _Shit!_" Lily waved wildly for her friends' silence as the voice addressed her once more. "Who is this?"

"I'm err, Lily," she answered awkwardly, shrugging pleadingly toward her friends, who looked between each other curiously. "Lily Evans, but I don't—"

"Look I may or may not be pretty pissed right now," the voice told her matter-of-factly, and, though the late hour might have prompted her to laugh under any other circumstance, the seriousness of being this man's one phone call was not lost on her. "Literally and err also literally. But you know what I mean, piss drunk, right? My mates took me out because of bloody _Emmeline_ and then they ditched me down-town and this cop showed up… Anyway, can you tell them for me? Sirius Black or Remus Lupin or—"

A loud voice cut through the drunken slur, but Lily could only make out words like 'time' 'over' and 'done', through the anguished noise released from the first voice.

"_All right_," the man said curtly, the frustration seeping through each syllable, before turning back to the mouth-piece for his last attempt. "Please, my name is James… call my mate—Sirius Black—for me—"

Suddenly the familiar dial-tone filled Lily's mobile, and she easily pieced together what had happened on the other end of the phone. When she dropped it onto the coffee-table in front of her, she turned to look at her friends, who gaped at her.

"Things like this _never_ happen to me," Lily said, followed by a small 'hah'.

"This is unreal," Marlene responded breathlessly, provoking Mary to nod fervently in agreement. "What are you going to do?"

"Well I have to find this Sirius bloke, don't I?" Lily asked helplessly.

"What's his name? Serious?"

"Sirius Black."

"Hang on," Marlene said, launching herself forward from the couch to reach her own mobile. She impatiently drew her blonde hair out of her eyes as she scrolled through her phone. "Aha! I _knew_ I knew that name. Met that bloke a few weeks ago. He works at that bar down on Fifth. He doesn't live far from here I don't think."

"Well ring him then," Lily prompted eagerly, sitting up straight herself.

"It's nearly two," Marlene said, standing up, suddenly startled by the implications of calling a man this late at night.

"And? If he bar-tends he's used to getting off work at this hour!"

"Do it," Mary encouraged, her smile mischievous.

"Fine. But I'm passing you the phone, Lil." Marlene exhaled before pressing the call button and holding the phone up to her cheek. It rang four times before a gruff voice answered.

"What?"

Taken aback, Marlene sputtered out, "Err hello, is this Sirius Black?"

"Yeah. Who's this?"

"This is Marlene McKinnon, we met a few weeks ago—"

"McKinnon!" Sirius said, recognition softening his voice. "Little late for a pleasant chat, don't you think?"

Marlene laughed nervously, shooting Lily a get-ready look. "Indeed. It's not really a pleasant chat I had in mind. My friend Lily needs to speak with you…hang on, she'll explain…"

"Hi," Lily said, after catching the phone Marlene had tossed to her. "I'm Lily. Your friend James asked me to—"

"James is with you lot?" Sirius interrupted, before his voice left the mouth-piece, "Oi, Moony! Prongs is off with some birds—"

"No, no he's not!" Lily corrected, having not the faintest idea what Moony or Prongs was. "He's called from the jail, he misdialed me by accident."

Sirius' end of the phone stayed silent for a long minute. "What?"

"He said the cops found him down-town, and he misdialed his phone call. It was really dumb luck that Marlene knew who you were, and—"

"Oh _fuck_! Listen, I've got to go. Thanks, err—"

"Lily," she supplied.

"Thanks, Lily," he said, earnestly. "You should come by the bar with McKinnon some time. I'll be there tomorrow night if James doesn't murder me first. But, I have to go."

"Yes, go."

"Okay, yeah."

And without saying goodbye, he hung up. Lily silently handed the phone back to Marlene, and it was then she realized that she had been pacing during the brief conversation. Why she was so worked up about this was beyond her. Sure, prison was not lark, but it seemed like it was a minor incident and James' friends would get it all worked out. But what if he had called anyone but her? What would have happened to him then?

"He's gone down to the prison," Lily told her friends, once she realized they had been staring at her expectantly. "I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Definitely," Marlene assured her, gazing down at her mobile once more, perhaps wistful for a text message.

"He invited us to the bar tomorrow," Lily said, drawing Marlene's eyes back to her. "He said he'll be working… if he is still breathing, mind."

Marlene gave a small chuckle, setting her phone down once more as she stood. "Well let's get to bed then, I'm knackered."

* * *

><p>Though never explicitly stated, when the clock struck eight the following evening, the three girls left their flat for Fifth Street. Adorning their favorite Saturday-night attire, they made their way down three flights of stairs and out onto the buzzing street.<p>

Marlene, though unwilling to admit it, was excited at the prospect of seeing Sirius Black again, now that things had completely fizzled out with her ex-interest Benjy Fenwick. Mary, who always enjoyed an adventure, particularly ones involving her friends and their love-interests, had an inkling that Marlene was feeling this way, and was eager to watch the night's events unfold. Lily told herself she wanted to follow through with the phone call she received late the previous night, and intended to ask Sirius about it over a brew.

They arrived at the cozy pub half an hour later, and Marlene, after checking her reflection in the glass window, led the two girls inside. The air was stale with the lingering stench of pipe tobacco, and a faint trace of spilled beer. Mismatched chairs sat around rounded tables, and different size stools sat beneath the bar. As the door clanged shut, a tall man behind the bar's head snapped in their direction, then smiled upon recognition.

"McKinnon," he called cheerfully, abandoning the patron in front of him to walk to the side of the bar nearest the door.

"Sirius Black," she greeted. Lily admired the balance in her voice as she spoke to Sirius. He might have been the best looking bloke she had ever seen: long black hair fell casually to his shoulders, which were broad. His smile gleamed in the neon lights. "These are my best mates. Mary Macdonald, and Lily Evans, who you spoke with last night."

"Ah, pleasure to meet you both," he said, extending a hand to Mary, before turning to Lily. "I'm glad you came by. Wanted to thank you properly."

"It was nothing," Lily said, offhandedly, momently taken aback by the grey eyes in front of her. "If anything, it's your friend who _should_ be thanking me—"

"I couldn't have said it better myself," a voice said behind her.

She spun around instinctively, her eyes coming level with the man's chest. She closed her mouth on the words she was still saying as she looked at him. The voice was vaguely familiar from the belligerent phone call from the night before, but the face was entirely foreign. His hair seemed purposefully messy, scattered in all directions in a handsome disarray very unlike his friend's. Though similar in build, he carried himself a little taller perhaps, and his eyes were striking, even in the dimmed bar lighting. Maybe Sirius Black _wasn't_ the best looking man she had ever seen.

"I'm James," he said, as if to fill the silence. She cleared her throat as she realized she'd been staring. "We sort of met last night."

"Oh, yes… hi, I'm Lily."

"Well, Lily, I insist you let me buy you a drink as a thank you for last night," James said kindly, gesturing behind her toward the bar. "Anything you'd like."

"That's very kind of you," Lily said, glancing at the beers on tap before gesturing to a lager she hadn't tried before. "Thank you."

James shrugged, grabbing the drink from Sirius and handing it to Lily. As Mary and Marlene ordered their own drinks, James led Lily to a small table near them where his own glass was already sitting. "You don't really need to thank me. I'm charging it to Sirius' account."

Lily laughed, grateful he had told her this fact after she had swallowed the first sip of her beer. "I suppose he owes you that after last night, doesn't he? Prat got you locked away."

"That he did," James said, nodding seriously at her; after a moment his lips twisted into a lopsided smile behind his glass. "But you know, I've always considered myself a lucky bloke."

"Oh?"

"Yes, quite," James said, setting his glass in front of him as he leaned closer to her. She began to realize how fast her heart was racing, as their eyes locked. "'Cause of all the numbers I could've called, I called _you_."

"Me? It was lucky you called me?" Couldn't he hear her heart beat?

"Certainly. I'm here now, aren't I?"

Oh. "Oh, so you mean, you were lucky to find the one person who somehow had a mate who had your mate's number? Yeah, I suppose that's pretty lucky."

James considered her for a moment before his lopsided smile reappeared. "That's very true. And I am eternally grateful you helped this drunk idiot. I'm sure most birds would've hung up quickly, had they answered at all. But that's not the kind of luck I had in mind."

"You're welcome, really, it was no problem," she said calmly, silently cursing herself for not having Marlene's ability to balance her voice. "Though, I'm intrigued, what kind of luck did you have in mind then?"

"Lily, I've had Sirius' mobile number memorized since he got it a decade ago. I'd estimate I've called him hundreds of time by memory, and plenty of times more smashed than I was last night, y'know? So then there I am last night – and I'm not even sure what number I possibly messed up, mind you – and I muck up the number, yeah? And who should answer but the most gorgeous bird in London?"

Lily tore her eyes from his, her cheeks flushing as she nervously thumbed off the condensation on her mug. Despite herself, the edge of her lip twisted upward as she met his eye again, "Yeah, I suppose you're pretty lucky."

James smiled, apparently unabashed by his direct compliment.

"Shall I top that off for you, or were you lot just stopping by?" he asked, gesturing to her nearly finished drink; she could sense the hopefulness in his voice, and her stomach lurched pleasantly.

"I can stay for a while," she told him. She smiled brightly at him as he got to his feet and reached for her glass.

"Same kind?"

"What're you having?"

James laughed, and it was an infectiously joyful sound that she was inclined to join in, even though there was nothing to laugh about. "I'm sticking with water tonight, had enough last night."

"Probably for the best," Lily told him. "I'll take another, yeah. I think could use a little bit of luck tonight."


	2. Axe-Murderer

Axe-Murderer  
><span>

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and everything related belongs first, and foremost, to JK Rowling, and then to her partnerships with Bloomsbury, Scholastics, Warner Bros., etc.

**Summary:** 'I'm drunk and your car looked a lot like a taxi' au

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><p>Under the pale street lamp she stumbled, her boots nearly catching on the uneven side-walk as she paced back and forth in front of the pub. She had long passed sloshed, now in the annoyingly persistent part of being drunk where she was stuck between wanting her bed and wanting a fight. Though the latter impulse was attributed to Amos, who also shared the blame for most of the drinks she had had. She'd slipped her friends on their way to the loo, and she knew Marlene would be furious but her head was spinning from the lights and lingering smoke and <em>Amos<em> and she needed fresh air.

She stopped pacing near the curb, turning wildly right and left, looking up and down the street, in search of her refuge. To her delight, she found the black taxi just pulling next to the curb on the opposite side of the road and she threw herself forward to claim it before any of the other passersby thought to act. Fortunately her impeccable timing got her to the car-door before the other cars came speeding down the street. Tugging the handle, she flung herself into the back seat, her limbs tangling in her haste.

"Get me out of here," she told the black haired man in the driver's seat. In her stupor, she didn't think twice about how young and unkempt he looked for a taxi driver.

He craned his neck sharply at the sound of her voice, horror enveloping his face as he realized she was there.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked, attempting to keep his voice calm as he shifted his body around.

"What do you mean what am I doing? What's anyone need a taxi for, you loon? I'm pissed and I need to go home!"

The horror in the man's face lessened as comprehension dawned on him. He studied her with bright hazel eyes unhidden behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

"Well that's great and all but I'm not a taxi cab," he told her, the corner of his lips twitching up.

"Why aren't we moving yet?" she whined, through his explanation, then when the words sunk in, "You're not a…what?"

"I'm not a taxi," he repeated. "I can help you flag one down though."

This sobered her up slightly, though more by far than anything else could have. Her face was aflame as she clambered out of the car and onto the sidewalk. The man stretched out his long limbs as he joined her.

"I am _so_ sorry," she sputtered out, embarrassedly. "Your car looks very like a taxi and—"

"No matter," he said, waving her off with his hand. "Are you here alone at this hour? There's some unsavory blokes about, you know."

"Yes. I mean no. I mean, yes I know there are, and no I'm not alone. I was in the pub with Marlene and Mary and Emma, and what's-her-face from accounting. Oh what's her name? I'm right awful, aren't I? She bought me a pint earlier, and I can't even remember—"

"I'm sure her buying you a pint only contributed to the problem," the man joked, much more at ease now that he knew she wasn't alone.

She laughed. "Oh no, probably not."

"So if they're all in the pub, why are you out here with a stranger? I could be an axe-murderer you know."

"You'd still be a sight better to see than Amos and Hestia."

"Who're they?"

"My blighter of an ex-boyfriend, with his new girlfriend. Just showed up at the pub, I think. I hadn't noticed them before anyway. But when Mar needed to use the loo, I spotted them cozy at the far end of the pub and I just had to get out, you know what I mean—err—?"

"I'm James," he supplied, eying her with a delighted curiosity. "And you?"

"I'm Lily. Lily Evans. But you didn't need to know that, as you've indicated you're an axe-murderer. And even though you're not an ex-boyfriend, and seem certainly better than Amos, I think I oughtn't share my information with axe-murderers."

"No, you're right about that one," he said kindly. "Lily, has anyone ever told you, you ramble when you're drunk?"

"I most certainly do _not_ ramble. I assure you I am just the same as when I'm sober, thank you very much."

James stifled his laughter at her indignation, in the off chance she became violent when drinking. He winced simply imagining how the heel of her boots would feel stomped into his toes.

"Well, my sincere apologies. Let's get you a taxi," James suggested, stepping to the edge of the curb and straining to see down the dimly lit street until his attention was drawn to the other side of the road.

"LILY!" a blonde called from the entrance of the pub.

"Oh shit, she found me," Lily muttered to James, evidently horrified. The wide-eyed look she was giving him proved too much and he broke into laughter. "That's Marlene."

"Oh," was all James could say before Marlene marched across the road to them.

"Lily, what are you doing? We turned around for two seconds and you'd gone." Marlene rounded on James instantly, before Lily could speak. "And who are you? You'd better not be trying to take advantage of my mate. Bloody hell, she's sloshed, what kind of bloke are you?"

"Whoa!" James said quickly, holding his hands in front of him as he took a subconscious step back. "I didn't—"

"I hopped into this poor bloke's car, thinking it was a taxi," Lily informed Marlene, unabashed in her drunken state. "His name is Jim—"

"James," he found himself correcting, again as an involuntary reflex.

Marlene pressed her lips together. "Oh, sorry, James. I was worried and I tend to get a little batty when I worry. I'm sure you're a great bloke."

"He's an axe-murderer," Lily piped in again helpfully. Her mind had returned to the foggy state of drunkenness once more as they stood on the sidewalk.

"That was a joke," James explained quickly, shooting Lily a pleading look. "I like to have a lark."

"Interesting sense of humor," was all Marlene said, though her eyebrow hitched up before she turned to Lily. "All right Lils, let's get you home. I didn't realize Amos would be here."

"Blighter," Lily said, draping her arms around Marlene's shoulder as she yawned.

"There's a taxi coming down the road now," James informed them as he stretched his long arm out to flag it down.

"Thank you," Marlene said earnestly, as the taxi came to a stop in front of the curb and she opened the door to let Lily in.

"Sorry for getting into your car, axe-murderer," Lily told James as she closed the car door. Through the glass window Lily watched vaguely aware of a brief conversation Marlene was having with James, but as her main focus was on getting home to her bed, she didn't give it much contemplation.

James only allowed himself a small chuckle at Lily's parting words once he stood alone watching the taillights travel around the corner and out of sight.

* * *

><p>The next morning Lily woke up with a pounding headache and her stomach in nauseated knots. Groaning, she pulled the covers up to her eyes in an attempt to block them from the sun that seeped in through her window.<p>

"Good morning," Marlene said quietly as she entered the room, carrying a tray laden with a large glass of water, some aspirin, and three pieces of toast. "Brought you some breakfast. Though it'd probably be considered lunch by now."

"Ehh," Lily let out, as her form of a hang-over thank-you, and Marlene chuckled softly as she set the tray on Lily's bedside table.

"You're welcome. Also, your phone's lighting up, seems like you have a message or something," Marlene said casually as she backed out of the room, silently closing the door behind her.

Intrigue and a desire for the aspirin drove Lily's face out from under the covers. It certainly wasn't the worst hang-over she'd ever had, although she found herself struggling to remember a worse one. Popping the aspirin into her mouth and taking a small sip of the water, she unlocked her phone with her free hand.

She had two texts from Emma and three from Mary, and then one from a number that wasn't in her phone. Ignoring the messages from her friends, she quickly opened the foreign one.

_Good morning. How are you feeling? This is the axe-murderer, by the way._

Lily stared confusedly at the phone. Axe-murderer? What the hell happened last night? After a few minutes of painstaking thought – through her throbbing headache – she started regaining some of her memory. It came to her quickly that Amos had showed up at the pub, and how much it had bothered her at the time. Then she realized that she left the pub, alone, and got herself a taxi. But where the axe-murderer came in didn't become apparent to her until she remembered that the taxi wasn't a taxi, and that there was a bloke. A tall bloke, with unruly hair, and glasses, and what was his name?

And how had he gotten her number?

**Hi. I'm pretty miserable, though you didn't kill me so there's the silver-lining I suppose.**

Lily lied back on her pillow, her mind blank as she waited for a reply.

_Oh, my mistake. I'm not the proper axe-murdering kind of bloke. I'm the sort of axe-murderer who helps drunken birds get home safely, which I'm glad to see you have. Out of curiosity, do you remember me?_

**Vaguely. It's all coming back to me. And now that we've cleared up your axe-murdering tendencies, tell me, are you also the type of bloke who stalks a bird? I don't think I even knew what my phone number was last night, so I would hardly have been able to give it to you.**

_Evidently, not everything's coming back. I am definitely not the type of bloke to stalk anyone, least of all drunk birds. Your mate Marlene passed me your number last night and said to text you today. And as a man of my word, here are your texts._

"Marlene!" Lily called loudly, which she immediately regretted as the sound of her own voice made her head throb even more.

Lily's door opened a sliver to show the face of her friend. "Yeah?"

"How is it I've gotten a text from an axe-murderer, hmm?"

"Oh he's actually texted you then, has he? Good, at least we know he'll listen," Marlene said approvingly.

"_You gave him my number_?" Lily reiterated.

"Of course I did. I was sober enough to actually have a good _look_ at him. Believe me, if you'd been in a proper mind you'd have wanted him to have your number too. Plus the way he was looking at you sort of required me to give him your number. It's in the Best Mate's Handbook or something."

"What do you mean? The way he was looking at me?"

Marlene shrugged, her lips twitching upward. "Nothing bad, of course. He just looked like he enjoyed being around you. You'd be hard-pressed to find any bloke who can tolerate drunk, babbling Lily as it is, and this bloke did more than just tolerate it."

As Lily looked down to see another text from James on her phone, Marlene took the distraction as an opportunity to silently exit the room again.

_Are you cross? I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a blighter. Clearly you didn't want to hear from me, so I can take a hint. It's one of my better qualities, considering I'm an axe-murderer and all._

Lily found herself smiling – well, grimacing slightly – at the words.

**I'm not cross. I just don't remember too much about last night apart from thinking your car to be a taxi. Which is actually pretty humiliating, especially compounded with how I am when sloshed.**

_Don't worry about it, you were cute. I'm glad you got into my car and not some dodgy fellow's._

**So am I. Thanks for being so kind about it.**

_Kind? For an axe-murderer, you mean._

**Oh yes, that goes without saying. As far as axe-murderers go, you are the most pleasant I've ever met.**

_You do seem like the type to frequently fraternize with axe-murderers._

**Is it that obvious?**

_Nah, I'm just well-trained._

Unsure of what to say next, Lily sat there, nibbling on a piece of toast as the aspirin finally kicked in. Well, at least something was making her feel better. After about ten minutes of her not replying, her phone lit up again.

_Well in case you've forgotten, my name is James. James Potter. I know we don't really know each other too well, but if you'd ever want to meet up or something, I'd like that._

Lily smiled thoughtfully at the phone. Certainly the aspirin was doing wonders now.

**I'd like that, too. Of course, only if you promise to remain as kind an axe-murderer as you have been thus far.**

_I'll do one better than promise: I solemnly swear. Though, despite your frequent fraternizing with axe-murderers, you seem like the kind of bird who might be able to convince me to give it up for good._


	3. Stood Up

Stood Up  
><span>

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and everything related belongs first, and foremost, to JK Rowling, and then to her partnerships with Bloomsbury, Scholastics, Warner Bros., etc.

**Summary:** 'Both of our dates abandoned us' au

* * *

><p>His fingers strummed impatiently on the table top, his usually relaxed dispositions stiffening as anxiety rose in his features. Weary hazel eyes threw a contemptuous look at his watch, as if it was guilty of causing him misery. Of course that couldn't be further from the truth. Really it was his own fault for getting his hopes up over something Sirius had set up for him. A blind date? Was he stupid?<p>

The small hand on his watch shifted to the six and he let out an exhale, rising from the table to sit at the bar. He slid onto a vacant seat next to a girl with beautiful auburn hair. With his eyes focused forward, he quietly asked the bartender for a double whiskey – grateful he hadn't driven for once.

"Bad night?" the girl asked, teasingly, from his left. He looked around to see her nursing her own whiskey.

"You could say that." He thanked the bartender before downing a large gulp. After exhaling in relief from the alcohol burn, he nodded to her drink. "You too?"

She smiled, tipping her glass in his direction, before muttering, "Indeed," and taking a sip.

"Ah. Well…is this when we exchange horror stories and decide who's had it worse, then? Because mine isn't too thrilling. Just been stood up."

The girl laughed, her loose auburn hair shaking joyfully around her shoulders. And she did not look likely to stop.

"What?" he said, after a torturous moment, his features hardening in defensiveness.

"Nothing, nothing," she assured through her laughter. "It's just… I was, too!"

The man took an inopportune moment to sip his drink, as he nearly choked on it in his own laughter.

"No shit?"

"No shit," she confirmed, smiling a broad smile at him.

"What kind of bloke stands up a bird like you, anyway?"

"A complete tosser, of course. How'd you scare yours off?"

"My mate set up a blind date. Though I wouldn't be surprised if he told one of us the wrong day."

"Yeah all right, keep telling yourself that so you'll feel better about being stood up."

He held a hand to his heart in mock-chagrin. "You _wound_ me."

"No moreso than your lovely date. You looked pretty crushed coming over here to get sloshed. Was she that good-looking?"

He shrugged, "No idea. That's why they call it a blind date, yeah? And I am _not_ wounded by my date not showing up."

"Sure," she placated, her eyes returning to her drink as she finished it, with a satisfied slam on the counter.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, "You don't look too thrilled to have been stood up either."

She met his challenging eyebrow with a broader smirk. "Oh yes, I am terribly devastated to not have to sit through dinner with a bloke who would spend half the time talking about his boring financial position and the other half going on about how great his dog is."

"Oy there!" the man scoffed, "_I_ work in finance, and I take offense to that. Though I am more of a cat person myself."

The women laughed, unabashed by her insult. "Sorry, you don't seem terribly boring, if that makes up for it. You appear to be getting wounded by women frequently tonight."

"Apology _not_ accepted," the man said laughing, before finishing his own drink.

"Having another?"

"Don't think you can buy my forgiveness with liquor. Though you could always _try_ to, anyway."

The women found herself stifling another laugh as the bartender came around to them. After she ordered them both whiskey she turned back to him. "So Mister-terribly-sensitive-finance man, what's your name?"

The man grinned, "James. And yours?"

"I'm Lily," she replied, holding her hand out to him. "Pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine…especially if you keep buying me drinks."

Lily laughed, now turned in her seat to face him – he noticed her eyes were an emerald color, unlike any he'd ever seen before. "Keep buying you drinks, am I? And what do I get out of this arrangement?"

James grinned mischievously back at her, "Well now Lily, I'll need dinner before anything like _that_ happens."

She laughed, playfully swatting at his arm. "You don't seem like the type to make a girl pay for dinner."

As her hand lingered on his forearm, his smirk became a smile. "No, you're right about that. D'you fancy moving this to a table for dinner? I'll keep the boring finance talk to a minimum."

She smiled thoughtfully back at him. "Are you hijacking my ruined date, James?"

He held a hand out to help her off the barstool. "'Course. I'm not an idiot like the bloke who stood you up. Are you interested?"

She allowed him to lead her to the small table he had recently vacated and smiled thankfully at him when he pulled a chair out for her. "I suppose. I don't want to think about how beat-up you'd be if you got rejected _twice_ tonight," she told him teasingly.

He cocked an eyebrow at her over his menu before casually telling her, "That'll be a double, then."

Lily lips pursed in confusion, "A double?"

"Yeah, a double whiskey to make up for that comment, I think."

Lily laughed, "You know, you're not the usual type of bloke I date, James."

"Why's that? The blokes you usually date not as handsome as me?"

"Oh no, more handsome, undoubtedly," she deadpanned, studying her own menu to keep her face straight, "They're just typically not as sensitive."

James laughed, "Well you're not the kind of girl I usually go out with, either."

"Why, because I'm _real_?"

James glared at her mockingly, "No, because you've got wit. Most birds can't keep up with me, you know."

"Oh, wow. So you've gone from dating girls who can't keep up with you, to dating a girl _you_ can't keep up with. Must be a striking change," Lily teased, raising a challenging eyebrow at him.

"Lily," James interrupted, his face set and serious now. Lily's face softened as their eyes locked properly for the first time, the swirling of green and brown in his eyes now clear. "I'd very much like to kiss you right now."

"Err, before appetizers?" she mumbled weakly, suddenly losing her wit under his hard, intense stare.

But any further words evaporated from her mind as James leaned across the table toward her. His eyes stayed locked on hers, until she found her eyes stray down to his lips, which parted ever so slightly in a smirk. Finally when his lips were just centimeters away from hers, her eyes shut of their own accord.

She could feel his words on her lips, "I suppose I can wait until after appetizers." And when she opened her eyes again, he had sat back down in his chair.

Unable to speak, she picked her menu back up and nodded.

"Guess I can keep up with you all right," James said quietly, reading through his own menu, and Lily looked up to see a giant smirk on his face.

"Uh huh," was all she said, before hiding her face behind her menu again, her own smile broad. She couldn't help but think no-one should ever be this pleased to have been stood up.


	4. Rings

Rings

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and everything related belongs first, and foremost, to JK Rowling, and then to her partnerships with Bloomsbury, Scholastics, Warner Bros., etc.

**Summary:** Muggle bar AU

* * *

><p>The stench of tobacco lingered in a hazy invisible fog over the patrons of the pub. Poor Paul's Tavern, as it were, tucked in the corner of a cozy street in London. It was one of Lily's favorite places to go, one of the places she frequented as a student at University, and she couldn't help but fall for the nostalgia of it even being four years removed from school. Her best friends, Marlene and Mary, who had roomed with her since their school days, shared in her sentiment but not as strongly. Poor Paul's was, in a way, one of her second homes, not because she habitually drank the older burly patrons under the table (though she had <em>tried<em> once, with little success) but because it was a comfortable atmosphere, where all the bar-keeps were kind – it felt _safe_.

On this particular night, a Saturday in early November, the pub was as busy as she had ever seen it, and when she and her friends arrived, they luckily found three barstools unoccupied and seized them with the same fervor they once did in their youth. Two rounds in, the girls were feeling very good, swaying slightly back and forth to the music coming from the juke box in the center of the bar. In her distraction, it took Lily a little longer than it typically would have for her to notice a set of eyes watching her. She swiveled around on the stool to look over her right shoulder.

The man was sitting at one of the coveted booths in the pub, long enough to seat eight or nine people, but was currently only being used by four men. They lounged back, taking casual drinks from their frosted mugs, and the one at the end – the one who had been looking at her – turned immediately back toward his friends when her eyes fell to him. His hair was long and dark, even under the pale glow emitting from the low-hanging bar lights. It reached to about his shoulder, with an elegance that none of his friends seemed capable of. She gave the rest of the lot a dispassionate look-over before turning back around in her seat.

"What was that?" Marlene asked her, and Lily realized there was a slight edge to her voice.

"Nothing. I thought that bloke was looking over at me, is all."

"He _was_ looking over at you," Marlene informed her, as if she were an idiot. "Not really your type though, is he?"

"Not typically," Lily agreed, nodding. "_Don't look_!" she added hastily as Mary, who was sitting to her left, looked toward him.

"He's looking again," Mary told her, a laugh in her voice.

This time both Marlene and Lily turned in their seats to cast looks toward the man, who again turned away once Lily caught his eye. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling before repositioning herself facing the bar, and then noticed Marlene's haughty look.

"You've been eyeing him, haven't you?" Lily asked casually.

Marlene shrugged, "Doesn't seem to matter, does it? He's got eyes for you apparently."

"Now don't be like that, Mar—"

"Like _what_—?"

"He's coming over here!" Mary informed them in a hurried whisper.

Lily and Marlene dropped their argument quickly, but didn't bother turning around. Though they didn't need to because a moment later, the man was behind them, standing between Marlene and Lily. He tapped Lily softly on the shoulder.

"'Scuse me," he said, his voice pleasantly deep. "D'you mind?"

"Mind _what_?" Marlene asked despite herself, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder as she swung around to look at the man. He was startling handsome, Lily thought, although certainly not her type. And certainly Marlene's type, she realized now once she got a proper look at him.

The man raised a questioning eyebrow at her, his lips twitching upward as though he was about to smirk. "As the bar is packed and they aren't frequenting the tables, I was hoping you'd let me get my order in over here."

Lily eyed the man as Marlene nearly exhaled in relief, "So _that's_ why you were looking over here, was it?"

"Yeah, of course," the man answered, still casual. When Marlene moved her stool over a few inches, he stepped in between her and Lily and leaned across the bar.

The girls remained silent in the few minutes it took the man to get the bartenders attention and order his drinks. When the bartender came back with four large mugs of lager, the man threw a look over his shoulder, "Oy, James!"

Though not particularly interested in the man or his friends, Lily found herself looking to where the man had yelled. Another man, a few inches taller than the first perhaps, disentangled himself from the booth he was sitting in and came over to his friend. James, as it were, had a mop of similarly dark hair, but it sat in a happy disarray above his head, with a few long strands covering the frame of his glasses near his ears. He gave the first man a quick smirk before he reached them.

"I've already told you, it's _your_ turn to get the round, Sirius."

"Yeah, yeah. Just give a hand with the glasses, all right? I'd hate to spill them over these lovely ladies."

"Ah, of course. Always the perfect gentleman."

"One of us has to be, yeah?" the first man said smugly to his friend, as he handed two of the glasses over. Procuring the other two, and turning on his heel, he sent a last comment to the girls. "I thank you for your hospitality."

"No problem," Marlene answered quickly, sending Sirius a small smirk of her own in response. His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he headed back to his own table. Marlene forced herself to not watch him go, despite her obvious desire to do so, and turned back to Lily. "So he's not interested in you."

"No, evidently, he is not," Lily agreed, smirking behind her own raised glass.

"Nor does he seem interested in you," Mary added helpfully, prompting Lily to laugh and Marlene to scowl. "Oh come off it, he gave you a nice look over when you weren't paying attention, Mar."

"Did he?" Marlene asked, trying to appear casual and utterly failing. "Well, it makes no difference. He didn't even talk to us."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Mary said, wisely. "He knows where to find you. Or better yet, you know where to find _him_."

"I do _not_ chase blokes," Marlene told her, defiantly raising her nose in the air as she did. Mary and Lily both laughed, finishing up their drinks and looking around eagerly for the bartender to come back to their side of the bar. "What's that?"

Lily looked around at Marlene's sudden question. Her eyes followed Marlene's point toward the bar, where a set of keys were sitting. Lily picked them up gingerly, holding them aloft for both Mary and Marlene to see.

"Those aren't yours, are they?"

"No," Lily answered, inspecting them further. "Looks like a set of apartment keys and…and… oh bother."

"What?"

Lily's face split into a grin as she looked at Marlene. "Motorbike keys."

Marlene sighed heavily, her head drooping down as she groaned. "_He has a motorbike_?!"

Lily and Mary laughed heartily, to the point where Mary was clutching her side by the end. Lily herself was in near stitches when Marlene looked up at them horrified.

"Why don't you go give them do him?" Lily offered. "Have a nice chat about the bike."

"No, I couldn't. You go."

"Me?"

"Yes, please, Lily. He's the best looking bloke I have ever seen _and he has a motorbike_."

"Yes, yes, we get it," Mary placated, through her continuing laughter. "You may as well go, Lily, not going to sway her, I don't think."

"All right," Lily agreed begrudgingly, swinging around on her stool before hopping off. She suddenly felt light-headed as the alcohol took effect. Luckily she was only tipsy, and she steadied herself quickly before walking over to the booth where the men still were.

They were laughing loudly as she arrived, and the first to spot her was the one with glasses – James – and his laughter died instantly at her approach.

"Hello," she said, drawing the attention of the other boys now. "Sirius, was it?"

"That's me," Sirius answered before throwing a startled look over to James. Lily wasn't sober enough to wonder why Sirius and James were staring determinedly at each other, and, as it were, she didn't much care.

"You don't happen to drive a motorbike, do you?"

"Err…yes, I do actually," Sirius said in a strained voice. James might have been burning him with his glare, but Lily didn't notice.

"Then these'll be yours then," Lily said kindly, holding the keys in front of her – from the height difference of her standing position and his seated one, the keys dangled in front of his face. His grey eyes softened instantly. "You left them at the bar."

"Brilliant," Sirius breathed, as she dropped the keys into his hand. "Thank you very much, err..."

"Lily."

"Thanks, Lily," Sirius reiterated, a genuine smile now. "Why don't you join us? We have plenty of room, don't we, lads?"

Lily finally looked around at the other boys with him – a sandy haired one, and a chubbier mousy haired one, before her eyes went back to the one sitting directly next to him. He was smiling tentatively at her, and she found she rather liked it.

"Me and my mates, you mean?"

"Of course. Think I'd let you over here if you didn't bring that leggy blonde with you?" Sirius asked coyly, his eyes going past her to look at Marlene, successfully swaying Lily's decision. Marlene would absolutely kill her if she didn't accept the offer.

"All right, I'll send them 'round while I go get us some more drinks," Lily said, pivoting back toward the bar.

Marlene's reaction to the invitation did not disappoint, and she didn't even wait for Lily to order the new drinks before she pulled Mary to the booth. Lily sighed, propping herself back on the stool as she waited for the bartender to come around. Then abruptly, the messy-haired James slipped onto the stool to her left.

"Hello," he said casually, his smile lopsided. "We didn't properly meet. I'm James."

He extended a hand out to her which she graciously accepted.

"It's Lily. You didn't have to go out of your way for introductions, you know? I'll be along to the table—"

"Oh," James said lamely, his hand shooting up to his messy hair. He ruffled his hand through it three times before clearing his throat. "Yeah, of course. I just thought I'd give you a hand with the drinks if you needed one."

"Oh? And here I thought Sirius was the gentleman of the group."

"He likes to pretend, yeah," James told her seriously, causing her to laugh. "We go along with it so he feels important."

Lily laughed even harder. "That's very kind of you. I think."

"It is," James confirmed, letting out a laugh himself. "So Lily—"

"Wait, before you go on," Lily interrupted, the liquid courage bubbling in her stomach. "_Was_ Sirius looking over at us for a reason? The truth, if you would, kind gentleman."

James exhaled, brushing his hand into his hair again – a nervous tick? Lily wondered – as if deciding on something.

"The truth?" Lily nodded, giving what she hoped would be an encouraging smile. "The truth is, yeah. Sirius was looking at you lot."

"At Marlene? The leggy blonde?" she clarified.

"Not exactly, though I doubt he minded seeing her."

"What then? Marlene thought he was looking at me, actually."

"That's because he was," James told her, apparently against his better judgment. "He's my best mate, you know?"

Lily looked at him in confusion for a moment, the beer fogging up her brain to the point where his comment hardly made sense. So what if they were best mates? What do best mates do anyway—oh, _oh._ Lily felt her cheeks flush as realization hit her.

"Oh," was all her brilliant mind could think of saying. James' face deflated at her lack of response. "So you…? At me, then?"

"Yes… I think?" James responded uncertainly.

"So then you came over here to by me a drink?" Lily asked, with sudden confidence, a coy smile on her face. "Being a gentleman and all?"

"Certainly," James agreed, his face transformed from the frown to a broad smile now. A rather handsome smile, directed pointedly at her.

"All right, I'll let you buy me a drink on one condition."

"You get to make a condition for _me_ spending money on _you_?"

"Certainly," Lily mimicked, causing James to shake his head through his laughter.

"Go on then, what's the condition?"

"What was the real reason Sirius came over to the bar? They regularly go 'round to the booths asking for orders, but he said he needed to order from here." James watched her with a blank face as she recounted her findings to him. "I'm going to need a few more drinks before something like _that_ goes unnoticed. So what was it? What'd he come over for?"

"Ah," he said quietly in response, looking around the bar for the bartender as if hoping for a distraction. Lily enjoyed watching him squirm uncomfortably, and her laugh brought his eyes back to hers. In the deadlock, she realized how bright the green was surrounded by the brown. Hazel eyes were her weakness, and apparently emerald ones were his. "Rings," he said suddenly, as if compelled by their stares.

"Rings?" she asked, her brow now furrowed in confusion.

"He was looking for a _ring_," he told her again, nodding toward her left hand that was resting near his right on the bar-top.

She paused as these words sunk in. When he began looking at her apprehensively, she couldn't help but smile. "I see. Well…you've since come to realize that there is no ring, have you?" she asked teasingly, waggling her left hand in his direction.

"Indeed, no bloody ring," he affirmed, his grin matching her own. "How about that drink, then? You know, in celebration of me being a gentleman and you being ring-less."

Lily laughed, "Yeah, all right. _We_ might as well celebrate me being ring-less, because my mother certainly doesn't."

James barely stopped laughing in time to give the amused bartender their order. After catching his eye, Lily's permanently smiling face casted a happy look around the bar as she swayed again to the music. Poor Paul's Tavern really was one of her favorite places.


	5. Single-but-Proud

Single-but-Proud

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and everything related belongs first, and foremost, to JK Rowling, and then to her partnerships with Bloomsbury, Scholastics, Warner Bros., etc.

**Summary:** Muggle AU He's a hopeless romantic and she's single-but-proud (at least, for now)

* * *

><p>Lily, not bothering to look up from the crossword in front of her, heard the clinking bell of the shop door and immediately recited, "Welcome to Fortescue's Flowers and More. Select sweets are on a half-off post-Valentine's Day special."<p>

For someone like Lily, who held little time or desire for a boyfriend with her busy University schedule, it was bad enough to have to work at a sweets shop around Valentine's Day, but even worse _after_ Valentine's Day. She'd lost count of the number of stories she heard from ex-boyfriends who had messed up the holiday the first go around and were desperate for advice on how to make it up to their former sweethearts. She'd already had two so far today and knew she couldn't handle another before lunch.

"Which sweets?" the new customer asked, and it was then Lily noticed he had approached the counter. Even from the few feet back his shadow loomed over her crossword puzzle. She sighed, placing her pencil down.

"Everything on that rack over there," she instructed, pointing to her right, purposefully avoiding looking at the bloke in front of her. She saddled over to the case of sweets just to her left and slid open the door. Reaching in, she jostled the trays, indicating their sale prices. Once she finished, she looked up at the bloke. He was tall, and quite lanky, with a dark mop of hair and rectangular framed glasses. He had striking green in his hazel eyes, and he was dangerously close to smirking. Lily's eyebrows furrowed, "Let me know if I can help you with anything."

"Thanks, I will," the bloke spoke, fully grinning now.

Lily ignored him. Avoiding his gaze, she sauntered back over to the crossword puzzle and tried to find where she had left off. She could feel his eyes on her, and sighed. His shadow again covered the counter, and she gazed up expectantly.

"Yes? Sir?" she added, once remembering she was required to be pleasant. She would be in for enough trouble should her manager find out about the puzzle – a customer complaint would push her over the edge. And for all its faults, she _needed_ this job. "Can I…err…get anything for you?"

"Just browsing," he said pleasantly, not moving from his spot directly in front of her.

Blimey, didn't this bloke understand that she was _tired_? "Well, what'll it be then? Are you another bloke who's gone and messed up Valentine's Day? You'd be the third today, and if you badger me about it, I'm just going to sell you the same generic rubbish I sold the last two blokes so I wouldn't bother asking me for advice." Her voice rambled off, something akin to, 'you blokes need to use your brains for once' when she noticed the grin on the bloke's face remained.

"My Valentine's Day was rather uneventful, but I'd very much like to hear what happened during _yours_, and also where you've buried the body."

His tone was light, and almost shocked a laugh out of Lily, as she watched him finally edge away from the counter to study some of the nearby stuffed bears.

"I don't celebrate Valentine's Day," she said off-handedly, folding her crossword closed before beginning to wipe down the counter.

"You don't?" the boy asked, in a tone of mock surprised. "I'd never have guessed, with your charming attitude."

Lily laughed, but there was little mirth in the sound, "And what does that make you, then? A hopeless romantic? You don't look the type, but I suppose I can see it now."

"The type?"

"Oh yes. The type of bloke who puts days into planning the perfect Valentine's Day, because the bird he's dating is _lovely_. She doesn't even need to drop hints about it, that's how good you are."

The boy laughed, too, but there was unmistakable joy in his that she did not expect. He was clearly enjoying their banter, though she couldn't think _why_. "You know," he began, turning from the stuffed bears to study the sets of left-over Valentine's cards. "I am the hopeless romantic type. Don't go telling my mates that – they'd tear the mickey out of me if they knew I'd admit to it. But yeah, I suppose it's true. Haven't found the right Valentine, mind. But there are plenty of birds…err… in the sky."

Lily laughed, "Clever, that."

"Got you to laugh, didn't I?" he goaded, and she could tell even from looking at his back that he was smirking again.

"Yeah, all right," she ceded, having nothing else to add. "Like I said before, if you need any help, let me know."

She pretended not to watch as he set down the box of Valentine's and looked to his watch. "I've got to go – didn't realize it was so close to lunch, and I've got class later." He turned to look at her, but she had already reopened the crossword. "Sorry you didn't get a sale today, Miss hopeless-_un_romantic."

He was halfway to the door when he heard her call, "We prefer Single-but-Proud, thanks."

The bell clinked happily behind him, and she watched him tighten his coat around him as he stepped onto the street. She didn't think much of it at the time, but reflected later that her mood improved so significantly that, over the rest of her shift, she wasn't short with any of the next three blokes who came in desperate for her help.

The following days she worked were uneventful, as they often became as time went on from Valentine's Day. The bustle of normal business came in its usual waves of people shopping for anniversaries, birthdays, parties, funerals – all occasions someone might need flowers or sweets or cute trinkets. On the fourth day succeeding her cheeky visitor, Lily was finishing inflating a large latex birthday balloon for a first year university student when the bell clanked again.

She called over her shoulder, "Welcome to Fortescue's Flowers and More. I'll be with you in a mo'."

"Take your time, Miss Single-but-Proud."

In her surprise, she almost let go of the balloon, but thankfully held on just as it finished inflating. She worked to keep the smile from her face as she turned to hand the balloon to the student.

"There you are. Have a nice day, and thanks for thinking of us," she recited, before watching the student walk off with the balloon.

Once the door closed noisily behind the student, she realized that she was again alone with the hopeless romantic who'd once brightened her day. For some reason her stomach fluttered nervously, but she straightened her face as she turned to look at him.

"Back again, hopeless romantic?"

He smirked broadly at her, coming out from between the selves to approach her. "It's magnetism, I swear. Can't have this many flowers and sweets and cards and expect a bloke like me to not frequent."

"I've never noticed you before the other day, but I wouldn't be surprised if you told me you come here at least twice a week. Though I think you're going about this all wrong."

"Am I?"

"Certainly," Lily answered easily, tidying the shelf of stuffed bears in an attempt to keep her hands busy. "You see, most blokes go places to get a bird first. Then they are required to come here and get the roses and balloons and boxes of chocolates. If you go to the pub and get a bird, then when you come here you can waste time _and _money, instead of just time."

Hopeless Romantic laughed, and it was even better than she had remembered it – though she didn't quite remember committing it to memory. "They should let you write the adverts for this place. You'd be out of business in a week. Tell me, how did you trick them into hiring you? I'm graduating next year, and I could use the interview advice."

She tried to not think about how she, too, was graduating next year. Had they been in classes together at the university? "Did you ever stop to think that perhaps I didn't always feel this way?" she muttered, her voice slightly cool.

The coolness seemed to intrigue instead of bother him. "Ah, so there it is. Miss Single-but-Proud was once not so. That's a real tragedy, that. Shakespeare'd probably be inspired by your story. Beautiful bird becomes cynical after bad relationship – a literary masterpiece if I've ever heard of one."

Lily scoffed, tearing her hands from the shelf, and she turned to glare at him. She ignored the 'beautiful bird' comment, though barely. "You'd better get on with writing it then, hadn't you? A brilliant bit of fantasy that would be."

She turned on her heel and marched to the counter, as if it were a safe place to hide behind.

He followed her in earnest. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Thought we were just doing a bit."

Lily shrugged, composed. "It's fine. I've had bad luck in the past, but who hasn't? I'm too busy with university to worry about it. But even if I weren't… You're probably right. I'm a hopeless _un_romantic."

She finally looked up when his shadow eclipsed the counter. "Well hopeless unromantic, it's nice to meet you. Didn't get to formally introduce myself last time I was in, but I'm James."

He held out his hand and she hesitantly reached out to take it. "I'm Lily."

"Lily," he repeated as their hands dropped. "Not a bad name, though I'm rather fond of Single-but-Proud… For now anyway."

She opened her mouth to inquire, but he swung around to grab a bar of chocolate off the shelf nearest them, and set it on the counter. With deft hands, he drew his wallet and placed the money in her own hand.

"What did you mean? 'For now anyway'?" she questioned, handing him back his change.

"Certainly Single-but-Proud suits you right now," he began, grinning. "But it won't…say, in a few months when you are my girlfriend." Her mouth fell open, but he was already backpedaling toward the door. "The chocolate is for you, by the way. Sorry, but the hopeless romantic in me couldn't help it."

He threw her one last grin after the door closed behind him, and she watched him go, smiling. Perhaps a little romance in her life wouldn't be _so_ terrible.


End file.
